Book of Love
by mem03210
Summary: Moments between newlyweds. Not- quite- drabbles complete with some cheesy song lyrics, post series 2, please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

"Dr. Turner, put me down this instant!" Bernadette cried, trying to sound stern against the smile

playing on her face as her new husband swept her into his arms, carrying her over the threshold and

into the sitting room before lowering her feet to the floor. Even though she had since shed her wedding

dress for a white cotton dress with a pin tuck waist and soft blue cardigan, she still looked every bit the

glowing bride. In the morning they'd be off to the seaside for a few days honeymoon, but with Timothy

staying at Chummy and Peter's, the couple had decided on spending their wedding night at home.

Dr. Turner wrapped his arms around his new wife's waist, pulling her close and meeting her

clear blue eyes with his. He had loved her since the day he had kissed her hand after the 3 legged race,

and her beauty still awed him every day. Her hair was golden blonde, falling just below her shoulders in

soft waves when she wore it down. Her figure, hidden behind that beastly habit all those years, was the

most perfect thing the doctor had ever laid eyes on, surely, he though, had she gone strolling down the

streets of Poplar, any sensible man would trip over his own feet at the sight of her. She was as beautiful

outside as she was inside, and Dr. Turner absolutely adored her.

Dr. Turner brought his hands to cup her face, kissing her soft lips, Bernadette kissed him back,

running her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck. She had never been courted in her life

before him; she had gone almost straight from boarding school to the convent. She had no practice at

these things, these physical displays of affection, but somehow, under the influence of love, her body

had responded to his every kiss and touch as if it was second nature. "I love you so much." He whispered

in her ear; Bernadette shivered at the feel of his breath on her skin. "I love you too." She breathed.

Their foreheads met, meeting each other's gaze once more before Dr. Turner moved to cross

the room. Bernadette furrowed her brow, both out of wonder at what he was up to, and frustration that

contact with him had been lost. "What on earth are you doing?" She asked as she watched him

approach the radio, switching it on, he grinned back at her, "You'll see, my dear." Dr. Turner fiddled with

the dial until slow, sweet music filled the room. "Now, my wife," he began, gathering her in his arms

once more, "We have had quite the day, the best day of my life frankly, but I must say this, ever since

the day I picked you up from that sanatorium, and we became quite the district celebrity couple, we

have barely had a moment for ourselves, I respected, and still respect, your commitment to purity until

we were married. I never overstayed at Nonnatus, kept my distance at the clinic, and courted you like a

gentleman. Even so, now we are married, and I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of

my life, and I promise to never take for granted these moments to just hold you in my arms. So, my love,

my darling, I would like a proper dance with you." Bernadette responded by sinking fully into his

embrace, wrapping her arms around his back, resting her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her

head, lingering there as they swayed around the room. Bernadette relished it, she knew this was what

she was meant for. She was still devoted to God, and to her work, but she felt that this must be what

earthly devotion felt like, and she desired it, she desired to be this man's wife, to be a mother to his son

and maybe children of her own.

As the two continued to dance, Dr. Turner gently guided the cardigan from Bernadette's

shoulders and absently tossing it to the sofa before running his palms up and down her now bare arms.

Equally gently, he pulled the pin holding up the loose bun from her hair, letting her locks fall around her

face and taking up a strand, turning it in his fingers. Bernadette smiled, kissing his chest were her head

had been resting before bringing it up to meet his. Their lips met briefly, before Dr. Turner moved his to

plant delicate kissed along her jaw line and down her neck. Bernadette sighed deeply in contentment

and let out a gasp as his lips lingered at the hollow of her neck. This was all so new, new and

marvelously wonderful.

Their eyes met again, and Dr Turner let out a soft laugh at his wife's innocent reaction. "My

darling, you are so beautiful, so beautiful and I love you so much and I would very much like to continue

this elsewhere," he said gently, watching her eyes widen a bit. "but, we don't have to, only if you are

ready, there's no rush." He finished, a serious air coming over his face. Bernadette smiled, kissing him. "I

want to, I trust you, I want you so much, I'm ready." she said. The music carried on as her kissed her

once more before taking her hand and gently leading her to their bedroom.

_Book Of Love by Peter Gabriel_

_The book of love is long and boring_  
_No one can lift the damn thing_  
_It's full of charts and facts and figures and instructions for dancing_  
_But I_  
_I love it when you read to me_  
_And you_  
_You can read me anything_  
_The book of love has music in it_  
_In fact that's where music comes from_  
_Some of it is just transcendental_  
_Some of it is just really dumb_  
_But I_  
_I love it when you sing to me_  
_And you_  
_You can sing me anything_  
_The book of love is long and boring_  
_And written very long ago_  
_It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes_  
_And things we're all too young to know_  
_But I_  
_I love it when you give me things_  
_And you_  
_You ought to give me wedding rings_  
_And I_  
_I love it when you give me things_  
_And you_  
_You ought to give me wedding rings_  
_And I_  
_I love it when you give me things_  
_And you_  
_You ought to give me wedding rings_  
_You ought to give me wedding rings_

(lyrics courtesy of )


	2. Chapter 2

_Ladies and gentlemen, we have a ring... GAH! and first names, which I used in this chapter. Might write something around the finale, but may have to watch 4 more time to get my head around it all. Anyway, here goes nothing, as well as a bit more musical inspiration at the bottom._

Shelagh Turner sat in the sitting room, reading her Bible, as she often did in the evening, waiting for her

husband to come home. As much as she adored the life she had settled into with her husband and son,

she sometimes missed the silent evenings she had experienced as a nun, nothing to do but sit in quiet

contemplation of God. Sheila still worked at Nonnatus as a nurse and midwife, but since soon after she

and Patrick had returned from their honeymoon, she was rarely on call, preferring to spend her evenings

and nights at home, helping Timothy with his homework, fixing supper, and sometimes playing games

until the doctor came home. She especially loved the time she and Patrick spent together, after Timothy

had been put to bed. They would sit together with a cup of tea, reading or watching a program on their

new television set, simply enjoying each other's company. Often, without realizing they had done it,

found that they were grasping each other's hand, fingers tightly laced, or that Patrick had gathered his

wife up in his arms, practically cradling her in his lap. Their love and want to be close to each other had

become the greatest of unconscious actions, and yet was so intentional, they were still newlyweds, after

all. Many nights, after the tea was finished or they had tired of their reading, they found themselves

tangled further in each other, one leading the other to their bedroom and making love. Most people in

the east end would not associate God and sex, but the Turner's pure love for one another seemed to do

just that.

Timothy Turner hopped off the bottom step and made his way into the sitting room, drawing Shelagh's

attention as he entered the room, she looked up from her scripture, smiling at him, "hello Timothy,

how's the reading coming along?" Timothy sighed, flopping down on the arm of the chair she was sitting

in. He was tall for 9-years-old and dark haired, serious and intelligent, like his father. "I can't figure out

this word, mum, I don't think we've ever learned it at school." He said somewhat mournfully. Sheila

smiled at the word, "mum" she had never asked him to call her that, she'd never asked him to call her

anything, Timothy had had a mother, and a lovely one, though she didn't remember her well, and she

had not meant to replace her in his life, but the sound of the word, which he had begun calling her

almost immediately, filled her soul with joy.

"Oh dear, it can't be that bad, let's sound it out together shall we?" She replied as he leaned over to

show her the book. After interpreting the word ("contradiction") and a few others, Timothy had opted

to remain by his stepmother to read. They both sat in silence a while, until Timothy spoke up, "can I ask

you a question?" "Of course," she said, thinking he must need help with another word. "You aren't ever

going to leave dad and I, are you?" he asked quietly. Shelagh looked up at him with a start, "Timothy

Turner, whatever kind of question is that!?" Timothy looked down at his lap, "it's just…" he began

quietly, "sometimes, I think it must be like a dream, and that one day, I will wake up and you will still be

living with the nuns, and Daddy and I will be all alone again." Shelagh closed her bible, setting it aside

and turning to face Timothy, putting a hand on his knee. "Timothy, darling, can I tell you something?" He

nodded, "when I was a little girl, about your age, my mother died too, and my father also remarried,"

she began. Timothy looked up, his eyes wide, "really?" Shelagh couldn't help but smile at his surprise,

"yes, really," she continued, "we all lived together at first, but after a while, my step-mother decided

that I should be sent to boarding school far away." Timothy's eyes were still wide and now a little

concerned, "did you ever see your family? Didn't you miss them terribly?" Shelah smiled reassuringly, "I

saw them on Christmas and Easter, but I was away from them most of the time, and it made me awfully

sad." She squeezed his knee. "Timothy, believe me when I say that I'm not going anywhere. I love your

father and you so much, I would never leave if I didn't have to, and I will always be here to read with you

and talk with you, so you have no reason to worry." She finished, pulling the boy into a hug. "Now," she

said softly, his head still rested on her shoulder, "why don't we go in the kitchen and see if we can find

some warm milk and maybe a chocolate biscuit while we wait for your dad."

Little did they know, Patrick Turner was already home, in fact, he had heard their whole conversation, standing next to the door in the hallway, tears in his eyes.

Once he had composed himself, Patrick walked into the kitchen, greeting his family. "Dad!" Timothy

jumped up to greet him. "Hello Son." He replied, hugging him, "Hello darling," he smiled at Shelah.

However, his wife was not fooled, and raised an eyebrow as he met her gaze, wondering at the

remaining blotchiness around his eyes, and thinking that he may possibly have been home longer than

he let on.

Later, after Timothy had gone up to bed, the couple sat together at the kitchen table. Shelagh reached

across, taking her husband's hand in hers. "You heard me talking to Timothy, didn't you?" Patrick sighed,

"I'm sorry love, I didn't want to interrupt, you two were bonding, I just didn't expect to hear what I did,

why didn't you ever tell me about your step-mother?" Shelagh smiled at his hand in hers, gently running

her thumb over his knuckles. "I never thought it was important," she explained, "Sister Monica Joan

always said the past is the past, I didn't want to burden you with the troubles of my childhood, not when

all you ever give me is love." Patrick squeezed his wife's hand, a tear escaping down his cheek. "I never

knew he felt that way, he's never been a very talkative boy, and we both dealt with his mother's death

in our own way, we both loved her so much. I was concerned, when I told him how I wished to marry

you, he only knew you one way, and I thought he was getting used to it being just the two of us. I'm so

happy to know that Timothy needs you here as much as I do." He wiped the tear on his sleeve.

"Sometimes, I too wonder if one day, I'll wake up, and you'll be standing over me in a habit." He said

with a laugh. "Dr. Turner!" Shelagh exclaimed in mock bewilderment, "In order for me to leave, you'll

have to throw me out, and if you try to do that, I'll tie myself to the banister!" They both laughed.

Patrick rose, taking his wife's hands and pulling her up into his arms, kissing her deeply. "I had better

clean up the kitchen, why don't you go up to bed, and I will join you shortly." She said after they had

broken apart, a suggestive twinkle in her eye. Patrick smiled, kissing her once more. "alright darling, but

do hurry, I'll be waiting."

_God Gave Me You by Dave Barnes_

_I've been a walking heartache_  
_I've made a mess of me_  
_The person that I've been lately_  
_Ain't who I wanna be_

_But you stay here right beside me_  
_Watch as the storm blows through_  
_And I need you_

_God gave me you for the ups and downs_  
_God gave me you for the days of doubt_  
_For when I think I've lost my way_  
_There are no words here left to say, it's true_  
_God gave me you_

_There's more here than what we're seeing_  
_A divine conspiracy_  
_That you, an angel lovely_  
_Could somehow fall for me_  
_You'll always be love's great martyr_  
_Ill be the flattered fool_  
_and I need you_

_God gave me you for the ups and downs_  
_God gave me you for the days of doubt_  
_For when I think I've lost my way_

_There are no words here left to say, it's true_  
_God gave me you_

_On my own I'm only_  
_Half of what I could be_  
_I can't do without you_  
_We are stitched together_  
_And what love has tethered_  
_I pray we never undo_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey everybody, I need your help! I need Patrick and Shelagh to fight in the next few chapters, (I know, cruel, but alas, all will end well) but I don't know what they are fighting about, something other than babies, that will be later ;) any suggestions? Enjoy!_

"Oh bloody hell!" The loud, blanket statement was not at all fitting of a former nun, but

completely fitting of the morning that Shelagh Turner had had thus far. She had been on call the

night before, as Jenny was sick with the flu, and had attended one false alarm and another 6 hour

labor. She had come home for a few hours rest, finding a note from her husband that he too was

on call. Patrick was still out when she had awoken suddenly at 9 o' clock, realizing she had

agreed to do Jenny's rounds that morning as well, which were to commence at 10 o'clock. She

also realized that she had left her bad a Nonnatus after sterilizing her instruments the night

before, and would need to go round to collect it before she could see to any of her patients. The

last straw came as she was rushing to dress, and realizing that the particular nurse's uniform she

was putting on was in fact missing two buttons, leading her to swear in frustration.

Shelagh pulled off the dress, laying it on the chair in the bathroom to be mended later, and put on

her dress from last night, which was now quite wrinkled and had an iodine stain on the skirt, but

she was to hurried to care. As she was pulling on her shoes, Shelagh heard footsteps on the stairs.

Patrick entered the bedroom, looking rather worn himself, one hand behind his back, and in the

other, her medical bag! "Forget something?" he asked with a smile. Shelagh jumped up with

glee, "Oh you wonderful, wonderful man, you have utterly saved me!" she exclaimed, taking the

bag and kissing him, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes, "you seem to have had a night

similar to my own." Patrick sighed, "two complex pneumonia cases, the warm weather brings it

on." He explained, shaking his head, "I came back around 6 o' clock to make sure Timothy got

off, you were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you. I was just at Nonnatus getting a

patient file from Sister Julienne, and she asked me to take you your bag." He smiled, "I take it

your night on call was more eventful than you'd imagined." Shelagh groaned, stuffing an arm

into her red cardigan, "yes, it was, and this morning has been awful." Her husband smirked,

taking his arm from behind his back, in his hand he held a large box tied in string, the kind you

get from a department store, "maybe this will cheer you up, my love."

Shelagh stared at the box in surprise, "Oh Patrick, what on earth?" she asked, taking it from his

hand. "Why don't you open it and see." He said, mischievous undertones playing in his voice.

Shelagh carefully undid the string and pulled the lid off the box, this was all so unusual, Patrick

didn't normally buy her things like this, it just wasn't necessary, there wasn't even an occasion.

Gently pulling back the tissue paper, Shelagh gasped; inside was a bathing suit, similar to the

ones in Trixie's fashion magazines that were all the rage. She pulled it out, and saw that it had a

high neckline and bloomer style shorts, it came in to accentuate the waist, and was a pail peach

with delicate blue flowers. Also in the box was a white skirt, which tied at the waist. "I hope it

fits." Patrick commented, interrupting Shelagh's stunned silence, "the saleswoman reassured me

it is the latest in beachwear, you can wear it as a bathing suit, or pair it with the skirt for an

appropriate day outfit." He recited, as if he had been coached thoroughly. "I was hoping you

would wear it this weekend." He said nonchalantly.

"This weekend?" Shelagh asked, watching her husband's dancing eyes suspiciously. "Yes," he

replied, wrapping his arms in around her waist, she continued to eye him with suspicion, "this

weekend, when we go to Brighton. My sister, Dora, and her husband have to leave town to visit

his mother, who's been unwell, and she thought we might like the house for a few days. I took

time off from the surgery, Dr. McMahan will cover, Timothy will be staying with a school

friend, and I arranged with Sister Julienne that you not have any shifts. We will leave on the train

Friday night, and come back Sunday. I thought with the way our schedules have been lately, we

could use some time for just the two of us, quality time, no babies, no nuns, no 9-year-old school

boys." Patrick smiled as Shelagh took his face in her hands, kissing him eagerly. "Oh darling, it

sounds wonderful, I can't wait!" she declared, "I may even wear my new clothes, but only

because you bought them for me." They kissed again, and Shelagh noticed the clock, "My

goodness, I'm sorry darling, but I'm going to be late!" She said, grabbing her bag and made for

the door. Patrick laughed, "Well, we can't have that now, it's my job to be the late one."

Shelagh slept most of the train ride to Brighton, her head rested on Patrick's chest. When they

arrived he woke her with a gentle kiss to her hair and forehead, at the station, Patrick hailed a cab

to take them to his sister's house. Dora and her husband, Miles Baker, owned a fish and chip

shop on the pier which did great business with tourists and they owned a modest but beautiful

cottage not far away. The Turner's, quite tired from their journey, decided they would unpack in

the morning and made their way to the guest room, where they fell asleep together for the first

time in a while.

The next morning, the couple unpacked and dressed for day out. Shelagh did in fact where the

outfit her husband had purchased. She was far too embarrassed to go anywhere without the skirt,

but modeled the bathing suit for Patrick on his insistence, to which he gave his approval by

kissing her hungrily and letting his hands wander to most inappropriate places. Eventually,

Shelagh managed to persuade her husband out the door. They ate breakfast at a small café, then

made their way along the pier, enjoying the various arcades, riding the Ferris wheel, and sharing

fried bread and a soda pop.

Later in the afternoon, they took a stroll along the beach, taking their shoes off and walking in

the surf. Patrick attempted to pick up his wife and carrier her further into the sea, Shelagh

managed to escape his clutches, running down the beach. Her husband chased her until they both

collapsed in the sand out of breath. "Not a chance, Dr. Turner." She gasped, kissing his cheek

when he suddenly swept he into his arms, kissing her full in the mouth. Shelagh pulled away,

"Patrick!" she exclaimed, "We are in public!" Patrick chuckled, "Well, then, my dear, all of

Brighton will know that I have not had the chance to properly kiss my wife in at least a week,

and that I must make up for lost time." He said, kissing her again. This time, Shelagh didn't

protest, and let herself melt into his touch.

The fact that work and family life had taken up much of their time was true, the spring and

summer months always seemed to bring on more babies as well a heat related illness that went

wild in the tenements, as well as the fact that Timothy was on holiday from school. The busyness

had not really occurred to either of the Turner's until they were alone together. That night was a

reunion of both body and soul, and they took each other in as if it was all brand new. Patrick

loved the way his wife became more confident every time they were together, and Shelagh found

pleasure in his every move and touch. Even late into the night, they just lay in each other's arms,

taking in the company of each other.

Shelagh sighed, resting her head on Patrick's shoulder, "must we really go back?" she asked

wistfully. Patrick laughed into her hair. "Unfortunately, I'm sure the surgery and the nurses need

rescuing, not to mention the Allen's from Timothy and his insects." They both laughed,

"Eventually things in Poplar will quiet down again, and we can have our nights like this at

home." Patrick reassured her with a kiss, "but this has been a spectacular weekend, we will have

to see to doing it again." He added before noticing, that his wife, curled up in his arms, had fallen

asleep. "But for now," he whispered into her ear, pulling her closer and kissing her eyelids, "let's

just be together."

_Wanted by Hunter Hayes_

_You know I'd fall apart without you_  
_I don't know how you do what you do_  
_'Cause everything that don't make sense about me_  
_Makes sense when I'm with you_  
_Like everything that's green, girl I need you_  
_But it's more than one and one makes two_  
_Put aside the math and the logic of it_  
_You gotta know you want it too_

_'Cause I wanna wrap you up_  
_Wanna kiss your lips_  
_I wanna make you feel wanted_  
_And I wanna call you mine_  
_Wanna hold your hand forever_  
_Never let you forget it_  
_Yeah, I wanna make you feel wanted_

_Anyone can tell you you're pretty_  
_(Yeah)_  
_You get that all the time, I know you do_  
_But your beauty's deeper than the makeup_  
_And I wanna show you what I see tonight_

_When I wrap you up_  
_When I kiss your lips_  
_I wanna make you feel wanted_  
_And I wanna call you mine_  
_Wanna hold your hand forever_  
_Never let you forget it_  
_'Cause baby I wanna make you feel wanted_

_As good as you make me feel_  
_I wanna make you feel better_  
_Better than your fairy tales_  
_Better than your best dreams_  
_You're more than everything I need_  
_You're all I ever wanted_  
_All I ever wanted_

_And I just wanna wrap you up_  
_Wanna kiss your lips_  
_I wanna make you feel wanted_  
_And I wanna call you mine_  
_Wanna hold your hand forever_  
_Never let you forget it_  
_Yeah, I wanna make you feel wanted_  
_Yeah, baby I wanna make you feel -_  
_Wanted_  
_'Cause you'll always be wanted_


	4. Chapter 4

The first pains started a week later, just as the Turners were getting ready for bed. Shelagh felt a slight twinge as she was putting on her night gown,

but thought nothing of it. She'd been having Braxton- Hicks contractions for the past few days, and figured they had come again. She decided not to

trouble her husband, who was out on a call, so she tucked Timothy into bed, then went to bed herself.

Some hours later, Bernadette awoke with a start, the pain was sharp now, and she felt her belly tighten, it left as soon as it came, so she lay back and

waited, sure enough, 8 minutes later, the pain returned. Patrick had returned home earlier and was now sleeping beside her. Shelagh roused him gently,

whispering in his ear, "It's time." Suddenly, her husband was wide awake, sitting up in bed, "are you sure?" Shelagh laughed, "Yes, my contractions are 8

minutes apart, I believe they started around 9pm, but I thought it was just another false labour." Just then another contraction came on, and seemed to be a

bit heavier that the previous, she grasped his arm for support. Once the pains had subsided, Patrick suggested he phone Nonnotus House. "Don't be

ridiculous," Shelagh replied, rising slowly from the bed, "you know as well as I that there is no point in Jenny Lee coming this early. Now, please make up

the bed with the delivery pack, and I'm going to go make you some tea, I think you need it," Patrick decided not to argue with his wife.

For a first pregnancy, Shelagh's labour progressed rather quickly, she had woken with pains at 3 in the morning, and by dawn, they were coming

every 4 minutes when she finally allowed her husband to phone the midwives. While Patrick got Timothy off to school, Jenny Lee examined Shelagh in the

bedroom. "Baby's heartbeat sounds splendid, you are coming along very nicely, I would say less than an hour and you can start pushing." Jenny said brightly.

Patrick came in the room, saying that a call had come in from the surgery, "Do you mind if I take the call darling, it shouldn't be long, but I can stay if you

need me." He said, stroking his wife's damp forehead as she leaned on the bed. Before Shelagh could reply, Jenny Lee shooed him out of the room, telling

him not to worry, there was an hour yet before anything should happen, and that she would telephone the surgery if he was needed, then she shut the

bedroom door. "You'd think with all the babies he has delivered, he'd be more composed, I went out to get the hot water going, and he nearly jumped out of

his skin!" Jenny said with a laugh. Shelagh smiled, "He can't help himself, he's so excited, he wanted to phone you the minute I went into labour." Another

contraction came on, and her waters broke with a gush onto the wood floor. Bernadette groaned and swore under her breath. Jenny Lee insisted that she lay

down, and proceeded to clean up the floor and check Shelagh's cervix, "Not very long now I expect, do you think we should call for the doctor?" Jenny

teased. Shelagh rolled her eyes, "Let him work, it is calming his nerves, besides, if he thinks that just because he is a doctor, he is going to be in the room

while I give birth, he had better think again." The pain hit again, it was getting stronger, Shelagh squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the sheets and trying

to breathe through the contraction, as she had always instructed her patients to do. "Chummy said that even after assisting so many births, delivering your

own isn't any easier, I am beginning to understand." She tensed as another contraction came over her, feeling the pressure that told her she would soon want

to push. Some time later, the door opened, and Trixie's blonde bob bounced into the room, "Good morning ladies, I was on my way back from the Parker

delivery, beautiful baby boy, when I ran into your husband, all in a tizzy to make it back before you gave birth, so I thought I'd pop in, I hope you don't mind.

Don't worry, I set Dr. Turner to boiling some more water, so he won't bother us." Shelagh smiled at the other young nurse, "I don't mind at all, especially

now that the going is getting rough." She took Trixie's outstretched hand just as the next contraction hit. Jenny checked her progress again, "Well Mrs.

Turner," she said with a grin, "On the next contraction, I think you can start pushing." Trixie and Jenny helped Shelagh onto her side, and Trixie held her leg

as Jenny bent between them, Shelagh felt the first waves of the contraction come on, and her heart leaped into her throat, this was it, at last she was

going to meet her baby. The contraction came full force, " Alright now Shelagh darling, push!"

Patrick sat at the kitchen table, his hands grasping a small glass of whiskey, his eyes, heavy with concern, focused in the direction of his bedroom.

He was not used to being so helpless in these situations, usually he was the one taking charge, now, he feared to even go near the door lest he be told off by

Nurse Franklin. He could hear his wife's labor progressing, but all he could do was wait. Then he heard it, the first shrill cries of a newborn, it was all he could

do not to jump up and bust down the door. Moments later, it opened, and Jenny Lee slipped out, a soft bundle in her arms, she smiled, "Dr. Turner, you have a

daughter."


	5. Chapter 5

_Just a shorty this time, I realize this slightly throws off the hope for a Turnadette Christmas wedding, but what can I say, my plot has a mind of it's own, besides, I feel an anniverary chapter coming up. If you vomit at the sickly sweetness of this chapter, my apologies, like I said, the story does what it wants. :)_

Flakes of snow swirled from the sky, joining the shallow snow drifts already around Poplar. The

night air had a distinct nip to it, but the atmosphere in the Turner home was nothing but warmth

and joy. A hearty fire roared in the hearth and the lights on the lovingly decorated Christmas tree

danced along with it, "Silent Night" wafted form the wireless. Patrick and Shelagh Turner sat

together on the sofa, saying nothing but absolutely lost in each other. It had been their first

Christmas as a married couple, and it had been the most wondrous either had had in years.

Patrick realized that it was the first Christmas in many his wife had not spent most of her time in

pure reverence, and the first in several he had not spent working and somewhat lonely. Patrick

was not a very religious man, he believed in God, but had found faith mostly a mystery.

However, on Christmas, this Christmas in particular, a calm seemed to settle over the world, one

he could only describe a sacred and holy.

It had been many hours since they had eaten Christmas dinner and said goodbye to Patrick's

sister and family. He and Shelagh had managed to tear Timothy away from his new laboratory

kit and put him to bed. Now the couple were able to enjoy the peace they found with each other,

as if that day had been meant only for them. Patrick pulled his wife's legs into his lap, running

the lace hem of her slip, which was peeking form underneath her skirt, through his fingers. He

brushed his lips over the bridge of her nose before briefly bringing them against her mouth.

"Well, my dear, did Father Christmas bring you everything you asked for?" He enquired with a

smile. That morning, he and Timothy had presented he her with a new bicycle, cherry red,

perfectly suited to any Nonnatus midwife. Shelagh laughed, kissing him back, "I think he did. Thank you so much for the bicycle darling, it's absolutely lovely, I'll

be the talk of Poplar."Patrick wrapped his arms around her, "I'm sure you will, love." He trailed of before distractingher with his lips, Shelagh sighed contently

against her husband's mouth, unaware as he procureda small package from his vest pocket. Patrick pulled away, and grinned, "It seems you forgot toopen one

though, Merry Christmas Shelagh."The present was neatly wrapped in green tissue paper, a white ribbon wound around it to form a

perfect bow. "What on earth Patrick?" Shelagh asked in surprise, taking it from him and pulling

the bow lose in her usual careful manor. "It isn't going to have 'Please will you marry my dad?'

written on the inside, is it?" She teased as she unfolded the paper. Inside was a small box not

unlike the one that had held her engagement ring. Slowly, she opened it and gasped, covering her

mouth in surprise. "Oh darling!" She exclaimed breathlessly. Inside the box was a delicate silver

locket on a thin chain, it's face was lightly decorated with filigree designs with a letter "T" in the

center. She opened it, one side held a miniature version of their wedding photo, the other

engraved with the inscription "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine." Happiness spread

across Patrick's face at his wife's reaction. "I'm so glad you like it." He said, taking the box

from her hand, "turn around love, let's see it on." Shelagh turned, and Patrick draped it around

her neck, closing it before placing a kiss just above the clasp. Shelagh shivered, moving her hand

to feel the cool metal rest on her skin. She had never been one for jewelry, but she felt she might

never take it off.

She turned back to face him, draping her arms over his shoulders, "I just love it, thank you." She

breathed, giving him deep, well deserved kiss. Patrick brought his hands to Shelagh's face,

tracing her jawbone with his thumbs. "You're very welcome, my precious darling, I love you."

He took her hand, pressing his lips to the barely visible scar on her palm, his eyes never leaving

hers.

"Merry Christmas Shelagh."

"Merry Christmas Patrick."

Here's to many more.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm sure you all think I've completely abandoned this fic, but I have simply been attempting this for the past month, banging my head against the keyboard with writer's block, but now that this is out, hopefully the juices are flowing and there will be more in quick succession... I hope. As always enjoy!_

Shelagh Turner felt equal parts excited and absolutely ridiculous.

"Patrick, was this really necessary?" she asked as she sat blindfolded in the front seat of

the moving car. It was January 2nd, the Turner's first wedding anniversary, and Patrick had been

maddeningly secretive about what they would be doing to celebrate. Shelagh could usually see

right through her husband, but had been unable to extract a single hint or clue as to this

particular subject. He had only insisted that she take the full day off from work, and, as soon as

they had gotten in the car that afternoon, that she hand over her glasses and allow him to tie

the piece of fabric over her eyes. They already been driving for a half hour or so.

Shelagh felt Patrick take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry sweet,

we're nearly there now, and I promise you'll enjoy this." His soothing tone failed to hide

completely the hint of playful mischief, he was obviously enjoying keeping his wife in the dark,

in every sense of the phrase.

After another 15 minutes and a total loss of any idea of direction on Shelagh's part,

Patrick brought the car to a stop. Gently, he reached behind his wife's head to undo the knot of

the blindfold. He pulled it away from her eyes, sweeping back a golden tendril of hair before

placing Shelagh's glasses back on her face. The disorientation of being blindfolded combined

with the return of her glasses meant that it took a moment for the world to come back into her

focus. Once it did, however, Shelagh knew immediately where they had stopped and let out a

soft gasp. The winter frost that blanketed the surrounding fields and the now naked trees could

not distort the country stretch of road where they had parked, the same road where fate had

led them the day she had been released from the sanatorium. They seemed to be almost to the

very spot where they had held each other's gaze, saying so few words but changing each of

their lives forever. "Oh, Patrick," Shelagh breathed, looking to her husband, still grasping his

hand. Patrick seemed to be just as affected by his surprise had she was. His lips were slightly

parted, and his dark eyes swam with memories. Shelagh didn't know if he had been back to this

spot since that day, but it was certainly the first time they had been here together, and the

weight of what had changed between them since seem to settle between them in the same

way the mist had done in that first moment. At the sound of Shelagh's voice, Patrick came back

to the present, grinning widely at his awed bride. "Do you like it?" he asked, as if he didn't know

the answer, "I thought, if there was a day for reminiscing, this was as good as any." He half

teased, smiling wider. Shelagh didn't replay, only maintaining eye contact as she brought her

husband's hand to her lips, gently but passionately grazing his knuckles.

Patrick reached into the back seat, retrieving the blanket and basket of goods he had

brought along. "Well, shall we?"

The air was crisp, and Shelagh understood why Patrick had insisted they both where

thick jumpers. She hugged herself as she followed him to the front of the car. Patrick spread the

blanket across the front of the MG, setting down the basket to balance on the hood. He then

proceeded to sweep his overcoat from his shoulders and wrap it around is wife, grasping it at is

lips with hers. The last time she had worn his coat like this, she had felt so nervous, so flustered

under his touch, now, it was familiar and warm and wonderful and she prayed it would never

stop.

Patrick lifted his petite wife and sat her on the blanked before joining her. He pulled a

thermos and two mugs from the basket and poured them both cups of hot cocoa. He then

reached for the pocket of his coat, still worn by Shelagh, and removed a fresh pack of Henleys.

Shelagh smiled, now he was just spoiling her. She knew that her husband had been reading the

latest medical reports on cigarettes and their effects on the lungs, making him even more

cautious with them than he had been since her bought with tuberculosis. Even so, he knew that

she loved them, and he couldn't deny that they were like a melody amongst the symphony of

their life together, so occasionally he would indulge her one. "Care for a puff?" he enquired as

he lit it between his teeth. Shelagh smiled, of course, it was only fitting that they should also be

together, in front of his car, sharing a cigarette. As she took it from his hand, there was no

evasiveness, only the deliberate brushing of finger tips.

To any chance passerby, it would have been a very odd scene, the handsome,

weathered doctor sitting side by side the young, blonde nurse on a car parked in the middle of a country lane,

sharing cocoa and a smoke,often meeting eyes, blue on brown, and occasionally sharing a chaste kiss.

"When did you know?" Shelagh asked, covering Patrick's hand with hers and gazing at

him once more. Patrick cocked an eyebrow, "know what?" he asked. Shelagh smiled and felt

herself flush slightly. "That you loved me?" They played this game often, asking each other

essentially the same question. They must have done it three dozen times since their marriage,

but every time, the goal was to come up with a brand new answer.

Patrick stared ahead thoughtfully. "I believe it was when I was going over Nurse Miller's notes,

after that poor baby died. I remember, you brought me some tea, which was so like you, and I made

a passing comment about wishing I had your faith. Something I still wish for everyday." He continued,

letting his fingers entwine with hers. "You told me you wished it would make a difference, and I didn't

completely understand at that moment why, but I found myself caught completely off guard by you."

Shelagh blushed deeply as he said this, and he held her hand tighter. "I later realized that that was the

first time I had noticed you, I mean really truly noticed _you,_ Shelagh. You were less and less

Sister Bernadette in my mind, you were a woman, a gorgeous, gracious woman with a heart of gold and a

mind to match." Shelagh tried to turn her head, thoroughly embarrassed by his praise,

but Patrick caught it with his palm, brushing his thumb over her cheek and lips. "Darling,

let me flatter you a second longer," he continued, "I knew before then that I felt something

for you, but I was unsure what it was, admiration I knew, and attraction. I knew it was forward

of me to ask you to stay there with me, but I only did it because I was far too much of a gentleman to

confess my undying love to a bloody nun." They both laughed out loud at the thought,

and Shelagh wondered if he had, if she would have said it back, she felt she might have.

His hand never leaving her face, Patrick pulled Shelagh to him, their bodies melding as

he kissed her. Shelagh lost herself once more in her husband, urgently returning the kiss and

winding her arms around his waist. They reluctantly pulled apart, resting their foreheads

together, their breathlessness in unison. "Now Mrs. Turner," Patrick asked, his voice low and

husky, "I have a question for you: Are you still certain?" Shelagh smiled, "Dr. Turner, I have

absolutely, never been more completely certain about anything in my life." She replied, feeling

his grin never break as he kissed her once more.

Patrick hopped off the car and helped his wife do the same. "We had better be getting

back." He stated, "It would seem that Timothy and the residents of Nonnatus have planned a

party in our honor, and our presence has been requested for an hour from now." He opened

the passenger door, stowing their things before beckoning Shelagh into the seat. This man

could not stop with the surprises. As her husband shut the door and made his way to the driver

side, Shelagh smiled giddily to herself. It had been the most wonderful anniversary with the

most wonderful man, and of that she couldn't be more certain.

**_Then by Brad Paisley_**

**_I remember trying not to stare_**  
**_The night that I first met you_**  
**_You had me mezmorized_**  
**_And three weeks later_**  
**_In the front porch light_**  
**_Taking 45 minutes to kiss goodnight_**  
**_I hadn't told you yet_**  
**_I thought I loved you then_**

**_Now you're my whole life_**  
**_Now you're my whole world_**  
**_I just can't believe_**  
**_The way I feel about you girl_**  
**_Like a river meets the sea_**  
**_Stronger than its ever been_**  
**_We've come so far since that day_**  
**_And I thought I loved you then_**

**_I remember taking you back_**  
**_To right where I first met you_**  
**_You were so suprised_**  
**_There were people around_**  
**_But I didn't care_**  
**_I got down on one knee right there_**  
**_And once again_**  
**_I thought I loved you then_**

**_Now you're my whole life_**  
**_Now you're my whole world_**  
**_I just can't believe_**  
**_The way I feel about you girl_**  
**_Like a river meets the sea_**  
**_Stronger than its ever been_**  
**_We've come so far since that day_**  
**_And I thought I loved you then_**

**_I can just see you_**  
**_With a baby on the way_**  
**_I can just see you_**  
**_When your hair is turning grey_**  
**_What I can't see_**  
**_Is how I'm ever gonna love you more_**  
**_But I've said that before_**

**_Now you're my whole life_**  
**_Now you're my whole world_**  
**_I just can't believe_**  
**_The way I feel about you girl_**  
**_We'll look back someday_**  
**_At this moment that we're in_**  
**_And I'll look at you and say_**  
**_And I thought I loved you then_**

**_And I thought I loved you then _**


	7. Chapter 7

_No idea how this came out so fast, other than this is my brain coping with a completely horrible day, hopefully it's not to eratic, other than the fact that I threw the use of appropriate paragraphs to the wind. A little bit of Shulienne amongst the Turnadette mush fest. Enjoy and please review!_

Sister Julienne entered the chapel of Nonnatus House to see Shelagh Turner, sitting not

so far from the place she had once filled in the choir. She was dressed in her nurses uniform

perched on the edge of the chair, her head bowed over the bible which lay open on her lap.

Shelagh seemed so engrossed in her reading, she did not sense the older nuns quiet approach or

the greeting that came in her soft dove tone, "good afternoon Shelagh."

"Oh!" Shelagh startled, her bible slid from her lap with her jump and landed on the floor

and she fumbled to pick it up. Sister Julienne beat her to it, using one hand to steady the young

nurse and the other to lift the book from the linoleum. "Oh sister, thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't

hear you come in. I like to sit in here from time to time on my breaks, I do miss it so." Shelagh

explained, smiling softly at Sister Julienne as she took the seat beside her. "It's quite alright my

dear, you know you are always welcome." She smiled back, placing the bible back in Shelagh's

hands and grasping them between her own. "We miss having you just as much, I do hope Dr.

Turner appreciates your beautiful voice as much as I always have." Shelagh blushed slightly,

dropping her gaze to her lap, her eyes searching the lines of their hands and the folds of her

dress. During the many years Shelagh had been with the order as Sister Bernadette, she and

Julienne had become close. Sister Julienne had come to care for her as a daughter, and had

become adept at reading her expressions. It was easy to tell when there was something on her

mind, and in that moment, Sister Julienne sensed that the fullness in those bright, searching eyes

was the result of something more than being startled by an old nun.

"Shelagh, dear, is something troubling you?" Sister Julienne asked, her soothing tone

never wavering as she grasped the young woman's hands tighter. "If there is, you know you can

tell me." She added. Shelagh looked up, her lips slightly pursed the way they often were when

emotions were tumbling around inside her. Sister Julienne was right; she could be trusted with

anything. "It's not troubling me, not exactly," Shelagh began slowly, "it's nothing really, it's

just…" the nun gestured for her to continue, "It's just, for the past several days, I thought I might

be pregnant. But, as of this morning… well it seems that's not the case." She finished with a

drawn out sigh. Sister Bernadette smiled, moving her arms around Shelagh's shoulders and

drawing her close. "Oh, my precious girl," she said in a soft voice, "you know as well as I that

these things can take time. The Lord will give you a child in his time, and when he does, my

dear, you will be a wonderful mother." Shelagh sat up to meet the eyes of her mentor, her own

filling with tears at the kindness she had just received. "That's just it sister, until recently, I

didn't even realize that I wanted to be a mother, I hadn't bothered to give it much thought, we've

only been married a little more than a year, Patrick and I. It never occurred to me that I wanted

that so much, until it was gone, or I should say, realized it wasn't there to begin with." Shelagh's

eyes wandered again, "besides, I really don't know that Patrick wants another child, we both love

our work so much, and we, he, already has Timothy." Her distress became hard to conceal as a

single tear escaped from her lashes, leading Sister Julienne to once again enfold her in her arms.

"Oh my dear," she cooed, a knowing laugh playing on her words, "how can you say a thing like

that if you haven't even asked him, hmm? I would infer, in light of this incident, that you aren't

taking much precaution. For goodness sake child, your husband is a doctor, if he was that set

against having a baby; I should think he would have insisted on contraception from the start."

Shelagh considered the nun's matter-of-fact statement, which made an alarming amount of sense.

Sister Julienne took the hanky from her pocket, wiping the tears from Shelagh's porcelain skin.

"I suggest you approach the subject with Dr. Turner, sooner rather than later, I should think. He

loves you more than anything, anyone can see that, and I know that it would upset him to know

that you felt this way." Shelagh stood, hugging her dear friend. "You're right sister, I'm acting

foolish, thank you for your advice." Sister Julienne stroked her hair and placed a light kiss to her

temple. "Any time Shelagh. Now, seeing as there is no clinic today and you are not on call, I see

no harm in you going home early." Shelagh tried to protest, but Julienne stopped her. "Go home

now, and put some serious thought into what we just discussed." Shelagh smiled, "thank you

sister." She said sincerely before turning to leave. Sister Bernadette watched her go, a hopeful

smirk on her lips.

It was a nice evening, and Shelagh put the kettle on for tea in anticipation of her

husband's arrival from the surgery. She had, in fact, given quite a bit of thought to the words

Sister Julienne had spoken earlier that day, and she was happy to have such a wise friend.

Shelagh and Patrick rarely kept things to themselves, and when they had tried, it didn't always

work out for the better. She had now realized how broody she was becoming, and she knew she

would like to be a mother. Shelagh loved Timothy desperately, but something about the idea of

feeling a child growing inside you made her feel warm and somewhat dreamy. Since their

marriage, Shelagh had thought that to have Patrick's love for the rest of her life was happiness

enough, but was now seeing that she wanted other things as well. Maybe, just maybe, she could

convince Patrick to want them too.

Shelagh heard the car pull up in the drive, and she went to meet Patrick in the foyer,

pulling the scarf from his neck and hanging it up before pecking him on the lips. "Good evening

darling." Patrick pulled her close for another kiss, "and to you, Mrs. Turner." He replied,

watching her begin to fiddle with the buttons of his vest, "and where is that handsome son of

mine?" Shelagh nodded towards the sitting room. "I told him he could watch television, as long

as he worked on his math at the same time, so far he has been successful at it. Would you like

your tea? It's waiting in the kitchen." She said, walking through with Patrick close behind.

Shelagh set out the plate of sandwiches she had made while she poured his mug. "Darling," she

began, "it's such a clear night, I was wondering I you would mind taking tea in the garden, I was

hoping to speak to you about something, and I'd rather we do it out of range of certain young

ears." She gestures in the direction of Timothy, and Patrick nodded.

The couple made their way into the garden, settling on the small bench next to the back

door. "Shelagh, what was it you wanted to say, my love?" Patrick's brow knitted together. He

worried so easily and was always liable to get straight to the point. Shelagh, while trying to

sound confident, wrung her hands nervously, "well, there's something I wanted to tell you." She

began nervously. Patrick's expression of concern deepened, "Shelagh, please tell me." He

sounded desperate, taking his wife's hand in his own. Shelagh sighed, "I thought I might be

pregnant." She blurted. Her husband's brow came apart as his eyes widened, "Oh," he gasped.

Shelagh continues, "I'm not, though." She saw Patrick's face change completely, was it relief, or

disappointment she saw in his expression. "I suppose I could have told you earlier, but I have to

admit to you I was afraid, I was afraid because…" Shelagh trailed off. Patrick took his wife's

hand, running his thumb over her palm and down her wrist, always easing her with his touch,

"because what my love?" he asked gently. "Because I thought you wouldn't want another baby."

She choked out. Their eyes met, and Shelagh expected to see hurt or anger amongst the brown,

she certainly saw hurt, but he seemed to be feeling it with her. Patrick's hand moved from hers

up to her face, gently grasping her chin and bestowing her lips with a chaste kiss. "Darling,

Shelagh what would ever make you think that?" he asked, "if I truly didn't want children with

you, don't you think I would have said something, or better yet _done_ something?" Shelagh

blushed, "that's exactly what Sister Julienne said, when we spoke today, she was the one who

made me realize it was unfair to assume that of you."

Patrick smiled slightly, brushing his wife's cheek. "Remind me to thank Sister Julienne

the next time I see her. Sweetheart, I want whatever you want. The only reason I never brought it

up was because I thought you might not be ready, to try, that is. Are you ready to try?" Shelagh

smiled, nodding her head earnestly. "Yes, yes I think I am." Patrick wrapped his arms around

her, pulling her up from the bench and into him, her head resting on his chest. "From the first

time we made love," he whispered into her hair, "I knew that if we could create something from

that, I would be the luckiest man alive, more so than I already am." He kissed her forehead, and

their eyes locked, Patrick grinned at his wife's glowing face. "I hope it's a girl, when we have a

baby, because I know she will be sweet and beautiful, just like her mother." Shelagh smiled

back, "I don't know, I wouldn't mind a boy, someone to dig up insects with Timothy. Patrick

kissed the side of her nose, "why not one of each?" He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Better

yet, make that two of each." Shelagh let out a gasping laugh, "Steady on Dr. Turner, I believe I

am the one who will be carrying these children, not you." Patrick brought his lips down on hers,

moving sweetly and passionately against them. He pulled away, taking her hand and walking

towards the door, "come on Mrs. Turner, I believe there is a school boy to be put to bed. And

after that," he kissed her one last time and flashing a sly smirk. "I fully intend to have you pregnant

before the night is over."


End file.
